MWF’s Resident Action Hero Gigz Stryker finally concludes his search for the missing Original Menudo Girl, Geenuh. However, a new challenge presents itself as RG’s new girlfriend Neneng a.k.a Menudo Girl #2 is reported to have disappeared. More sinister details about the cult “Ang Bahay ng Liwanag” is uncovered when a very good-looking Liwanag member is revealed to be behind the kidnappings.

Art is limited, my friend. It is not infinite, it is very finite. But Art is also a small velvet coated room for people like me, and I work best in a place that limits me because oddly enough, it makes me feel … infinite.

Greetings, Kapafeds! It is I, the Grunge Grappler, The tortured Soul Artist, and the young blood wrestler from Katipunan, Quezon City. I’ve been wrestling for a year now and I’ve learned a lot not just inside of that canvass but outside, however, this piece isn’t just about the tokens I attained in this game but also for all of you Kapafeds want to know who I really am and who think they know exactly what I’m about.

So go ahead, crack your knuckles, grab your sodas, play some AFI (Just to set you in the mood I am in as I write this with my left hand, oh the struggle.) and let me help you sink your teeth into my mind.

Photo by Noel Tanjeco

Ever since I started walking I was already deeply in love with art and everything about it. I grew up with a family of Portuguese descent who’s deeply into classical music and piano, everything about them was pleasant and classy, but I, I was the one sneaking into the living room at night just so I can go watch wrestling and pretend my hair was all colored up, kikwear pants on, looking like an angst child, looking like Jeffrey Nero Hardy. I grew up wanting to not be like my family, I refused to walk in their leather shoes because I had my own combat boots that only I can walk into and I had my sketchpads that easily became my best friend. Just like Jeff Hardy, I was drawing weird graphics on my sketchbooks and I would make stories for them, I like to think of my art as not just my ownership but as my peers, my friends, and when I really feel alone…my family. The first ever painting I ever did was of this mutated alien face, it had spiky red hair and a humanoid but an extremely anorexic face, Axl was his name. When I made Axel, my agenda was to breathe life into something that can be put on a wooden chair beside my bed and talk to (because let’s be honest, humans can be terrible sometimes) and maybe even jam with when I play my guitar. I thought I was invincible while creating Axl, I viewed art as a limitless medium, but I was wrong, I was very much limited. I couldn’t give Axl a physical body, all I can give him was the power to listen to my grievances. However, the limitations that art gives us are only for our own good, you can never evolve as an artist if you only know how to work in a field where the accessibilities are infinite. Art is meant to be limited just for everyone to see who the real artists are, who can breathe life and spirit into a piece, no matter what it is.

Axl has passed on but recently I fell in love with someone, someone who’s existent but at the same time, not really. It’s a very odd feeling, the latest work I made wasn’t even my full creation, she was already here before the others who I made. She has two eyes that can see my spirit, and a third one above her forehead that whispers and sings to me like an angel when I look at it, when I look at her. Her name is Adrienne, she is my angel, looks after me and counsels me while healing my wounds. It’s a little unfortunate that the first time I was able to bring her along with me to meet all of you beautiful Kapafeds was the day when “Danger” Rex Lawin destroyed my right forearm. While Rex Lawin was attempting to kill my career, all I can hear was her screaming in agony. Rex, that messed me up. You might have took away my arm and my artistic outlet, my colors, but you left me color I can play with, the color of the bloodlust brewing in me. I might be limited with only one arm working fine, but I am an artist, and people like me… we find creative ways to get around when someone puts a barrier in front of us. Rex Lawin, I will never forget.

In my earlier years, whether you find it odd or not, the very first memory of TV that I have was sneaking under the pillow to hide from a surprisingly horrific and effective gimmick of a dead man coming back to life to annihilate lesser wrestlers in the ring. He kept on playing mind games to his opponents — indeed, he was a psy war tactician with a dwarfish sidekick, who had a deformed facial expression (who, come to think of it, actually prepared me not to be frightened at Lord of the Rings’ Golum). Yes, that unique moment of watching and hiding from the Undertaker was my very first memory of watching TV.

Since then, I closely watched what was then known as the WWF. I also became a Bret “The Hitman” Hart fan, inspired by my childhood hero to be “The Best there is, the Best there was, and the Best there ever will be”. His excellence in the ring was undeniably one of the best ever witnessed in wrestling. He had stellar matches, and his in-ring storytelling taught me what empathy means at a very early age. He defied the odds, went toe-to-toe with anyone who tried to disrespect him, his brand of wrestling and the people he represented. He was a great technician who had amazing matches against big guys like The Undertaker, Diesel, Yokozuna; had heated rivalries in Shawn Michaels, Jerry King Lawler, Terry Funk, Mr. Perfect, Stone Cold Steve Austin, even his great late brother Owen Hart, with whom he had some of his most critically acclaimed matches.

Recognizing my love for the underdog Champion in Bret Hart, I felt the need to create my own path of excellence. Often did I imagine having a career of my own in the WWE, building a character that simply carried my second name “Roy”. I had my dream tag team matches, dream rivalries, dream promos, and what have you. l remember being called weird by my youngest brother because he often caught me playing wrestling with sound effects up until High School. What seemed weirder was that I did not use action figures, and instead imagined my hands transforming as real characters. Indulging in those moments perhaps trained my hands how to work with puppets, how to make them alive, how to sketch my designs, and more.

Yes, I am a theatre practitioner now. I never thought of becoming a wrestler, because I never thought it would have been possible. But now, my craft introduced me to people who, like me, are still so gaga about wrestling; people in my field who were well-informed about the crafts and art of wrestling; people who spent so much time studying great match psychology, interesting characters, historic crowd reactions, and the relevance of character associations in the art of wrestling. My love for the arts led me to meeting people who acknowledged the art in something that is supposedly “just a form of sports entertainment”. I knew I was close to being part of living in a dream.

Last January, I got a call from one of my wrestling fan buddies, and brought good news that there will be a new wrestling federation that would try to meet Pinoy sensibilities. I knew right then and there that I wanted to be part of that action-filled event. I initially expressed my desire to call matches or to introduce everyone. Lo and behold, at MWF Open House: Level UP in the UP Film Studio, I became the voice of the MWF squared circle.

I stepped in the MWF’s newly constructed ring to do my thing. I held the microphone ala-rockstar Constantine Maroulis of American Idol or if you like a more wrestling reference, the loud Mr. Kennedy. I became a character. Once again, I was in my theatrical element, but this time it felt surreal — I was in my theatrical element inside a wrestling ring, the MWF ring.

I brought my Kasintahan (lover-beloved) with me, and was so happy that she enjoyed the show! What’s more interesting was her unexpected remarks recognizing heel tactics, babyface building up psy war through engaging promos, and the story in matches. It was insane hearing her observations, from someone who was not even a wrestling fan.

To me, it proved that we were doing the right thing. We were able to transform our colleagues as characters audience may relate to, characters with empathy, which can be a great tool in reflecting on our personal battles and values system.

Right now, the Philippine wrestling business is beginning to unfold its potential as a new form for us Pinoys to hear and tell stories, to connect us with our own demons and try to figure out how to pipe bomb our way to becoming more fueled in our lives.

I am now part of the MWF, and will always be. And that’s just too sweet to dig!